


Floors

by jadey36



Series: Housework [4]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:22:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadey36/pseuds/jadey36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if Guy doesn't have enough housework to do, now Robin has bought a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Floors

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** \- Robin Hood belongs to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. The characters of Robin Hood belong to legend; I'm just amusing myself with them.

Robin has bought a dog from some dodgy trader on Nottingham market – Gizmo he calls it.  It’s supposed to be a guard dog, but it’s useless.  Soppy, soft – as soppy and soft as Guy’s becoming for allowing Robin to bring it back to Locksley in the first place. 

Guy doesn’t like dogs.  He especially doesn’t like dogs that dirty up the floors of Locksley Manor that he, Guy of Gisborne, works so tirelessly to keep clean.  He’s finally managed to housetrain Robin into not walking into the hall wearing muddy boots.  All in vain now that Gizmo frequents the place.  Guy thinks he’ll wring Gizmo’s neck one day, or skewer him with his sword, plead it was in self-defence.  But Gizmo is unaccountably wary of Guy and always manages to keep out of his way. 

Three days in a row of cleaning floors and Guy has had enough and has told Robin he won’t have sex with him unless he either gets rid of the mangy hound or properly housetrains it.  Robin had agreed, but yesterday there was another damp patch on the floor, even though Robin tried to hide it with a scattering of fresh rushes.  Guy has decided it’s time to take action. He will catch Gizmo in the act and feel vindicated when Robin asks why there is a large pot of stew roasting over the fire and a curious lack of dog lazing by the hearth. 

Guy hears the stamp of leather boots on the doorstep. Robin is home.  The accompanying bark means Gizmo’s with him and Robin is about to bring him into the hall because he believes Guy has gone to market, it being market day, and Guy being the one who does all the food buying now that he’s frightened off the last of their servants. 

Today, Guy has not gone to market.  Today, with any luck, they are going to dine on roast dog.

Robin opens the door, quickly slips off his soiled boots.  Guy smiles. He is standing in a smaller room just off the main hall – the room where Thornton used to reside, ready to run to his master’s beck and call – watching Robin through a punched out knothole in the wall.

Checking the coast is clear, Robin whistles Gizmo in.  Guy’s grin widens.  As soon as he catches Gizmo in the act of staining Locksley’s polished wood floors he will jump out on him and run him through before Robin can raise his bow, let alone loose an arrow.  Robin had promised no more doggy accidents in the hall, no extra housework for an already over-houseworked Guy. 

Robin latches the door and then, curiously, sets about closing all the shutters, despite there still being a residue of late summer sun lighting the room.  The room darkened, Robin sets light to a couple of large candles sitting on the fire’s mantel.

Guy watches and waits.

Robin removes his weapons, pats Gizmo’s head.  He languidly stretches, fingertips reaching for the wood-beamed ceiling.  It’s been a long and tiring day, made more so by the fierce heat of a scorching July.

Guy watches as Robin drinks deeply from a jug of water, dribbles a little down his once white, but now grubby, shirtfront and then removes the shirt, running weather-browned archer’s hands over his wetted chest. 

A spike of desire ripples through Guy’s lower abdomen, floods his groin. He grits his teeth, determined to ignore it.  He wants that dog.

Robin tosses Gizmo a bone.  While the mutt is happily gnawing on it, Robin removes his sword-belt, unlaces his breeches and pulls them down.  He’s begun wearing no undergarments in the hot weather and today is no exception. 

Guy’s half-hard cock hardens further.  He’s tempted to forget about the damn dog and jump Robin instead. 

Letting go the hilt of his sword, Guy thrusts a hand into his leathers.  He’ll deal with his lustful itch now and take the consequences.  He’s going to catch that bloody dog out if it’s the last thing he does.

Gizmo drops his bone, barks.  He thumps his long, doggy tail on the floor, pawing at the floorboards.

Guy’s hand whips back to his sword, the desire to pleasure himself overridden by the desire to rid Locksley of man’s best friend.

“All right, all right,” Robin says, padding to the front door. 

Unlatching the door, careful to stay behind it lest someone sees him naked, Robin lets Gizmo outside.

_So_ , Guy thinks, _Robin has housetrained the mangy beast after all_.  Guy is almost disappointed.  He was looking forward to a bit of bloody violence, even if only on a dog, especially after months of resisting the temptation to kill an annoying peasant, or two, or three.  

The sight of Robin wearing nothing but his outlaw tag is more than he can stand and Guy decides to forget the self-pleasuring and declare himself.  However, when Robin turns around, so that he is facing him, Guy changes his mind; he is enjoying watching his lover walking naked around the hall, unaware someone is watching him from the other side of the wall. 

There’s a scratching at the door – Gizmo.  Robin lets the dog in and re-latches the door.  He crouches to tickle Gizmo’s chin and then, with a firm whack on Gizmo’s rear end, sends the dog to his bed.

Guy knows that Gizmo will sleep for a while now and there is no point in waiting around any longer.  He is considering slipping out the back of the house and then pretending to come in, when he sees Robin go down onto his haunches, arse low to the floor.

Head thrown back, Robin closes his eyes, sighs. 

Guy stifles a gasp.  _You dirty, fucking, wonderful dog_ , he thinks, watching as Robin coaxes his erection into life and proceeds to despoil the floorboards with a generous splash of juicy outlaw come.

Plunging a hand back into his leathers, Guy comes with such force that he bangs his forehead on the wooden wall separating him from Robin.  He freezes.

Gizmo half-rolls, lazily smacks his tail on the floor.

“Dreaming of a lady dog, eh, Gizmo?” Robin stands, glancing down at the floorboards. He toes some rushes over the offending wet patch.

Guy scowls, sorry that he has shot his load.  He should have saved it and then given Robin a good fuck, out there in the middle of the hall.

Robin glances at Gizmo.  The dog’s eyes are closed.  Gizmo’s away with the fairies or whatever it is that dogs are away with when they sleep. 

For a short while, Robin simply stands, eyes closed, hand gently massaging his spent balls.  Then, opening his eyes and gathering up his discarded clothes, Robin whispers, “Be good,” to Gizmo and makes his way upstairs.

Guy hears the click of the door to their bedchamber and, eyeing Gizmo, creeps into the hall.  He stands over the spot where Robin stood, cock-a-hoop over the fact that he has found out Robin’s dirty little secret, the reason why Gizmo is so un-housetrainable.   

He is still standing there, musing on the matter, as well as thinking about some new games Robin and he can play in their big bed, when Robin comes down the stairs.   

“Good shop?” Robin asks.

“What?  Oh, yes.  No, I mean, no.”

“Which is it, yes or no?”

“No food today, all sold out.”

Robin frowns.

Quickly changing the subject, Guy toes the rushes aside and points at the wet floorboard.

Robin gives him a sheepish look.  “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

Guy holds up a staying hand.  “Perhaps I’m being too harsh on the dog.  He’s only young, after all.  More like a puppy.  I think I can bear a few more accidents if it’ll keep you sweet in my bed.”

“My bed,” Robin corrects, looking noticeably relieved.  “Drink?” he asks, reaching for the wine jug and goblets sitting on a nearby table. 

Guy grins. “Love one.”

“I’ll get Gizmo housetrained soon,” Robin promises Guy a short while later, as they lie in bed, legs entwined. 

“No hurry,” Guy mumbles.  He rolls over, kisses Robin goodnight.  “I’ll try the market again tomorrow,” he says.  “Probably be a while though, lots to get.”

“That’s fine by me,” Robin slurs, half asleep.

_Fine by me, too_ , Guy thinks, remembering what he witnessed earlier. 

Downstairs, Gizmo barks in his sleep.

Guy smiles into the back of Robin’s head and winds his arm around the outlaw’s naked torso. Maybe he could get to liking dogs after all.    

**~ fin ~**

 


End file.
